The other one, on being asked if she understood chamber work, had replied, “Indade, and it’s been my business all my life.”  She was accordingly sent to make the beds and empty the slop.  Thinking it an easy way to dispose of the latter, she had thrown it from the window, deluging the head and shoulders of her mistress who was bending down to examine a rose bush which had been recently set out.  Lenora was in ecstasies, and when at noon her mother received a sprinkling of red hot soup, she gravely asked her “which she relished most, cold or warm baths!”

CHAPTER XIII.

RETRIBUTION.

Two years have passed away, and again we open the scene at the homestead, which had not proved an altogether pleasant home to Mrs. Hamilton.  There was around her everything to make her happy, but she was far from being so.  One by one her servants, with whom she was very unpopular, had left her, until there now remained but one.  The villagers, too, shunned her, and she was wholly dependent for society upon Lenora, who, as usual, provoked and tormented her.

One day Hester, the servant, came up from the basement, saying there was a poor old man below, who asked for money.

“Send him away; I’ve nothing for him,” said Mrs. Hamilton, whose avaricious hand, larger far than her heart, grasped at and retained everything.

“But, if you please, ma’am, he seems very poor,” said Hester.

“Let him go to work, then.  ’Twon’t hurt him more than ’twill me,” was the reply.

Lenora, whose eyes and ears were always open, no sooner heard that there was a beggar in the kitchen than she ran down to see him.  He was a miserable-looking object, and still there was something in his appearance which denoted him to be above the common order of beggars.  His eyes were large and intensely black, and his hair, short, thick, and curly, reminded Lenora of her own.  The moment she appeared a peculiar expression passed for a moment over his face, and he half started up; then resuming his seat he fixed his glittering eyes upon the young lady, and seemed watching her closely.

At last she began questioning him, but his answers were so unsatisfactory that she gave it up, and, thinking it the easiest way to be rid of him, she took from her pocket a shilling and handed it to him, saying, “It’s all I can give you, unless it is a dinner.  Are you hungry?”

Hester, who had returned to the kitchen, was busy in a distant part of the room, and she did not notice the paleness which overspread Lenora’s face at the words which the beggar uttered when, she presented the money to him.  She caught, however, the low murmur of their voices, as they spoke together for a moment, and as Lenora accompanied him to the door, she distinctly heard the words, “In the garden.”

“And maybe that’s some of your kin; you look like him,” said she to Lenora, after the stranger was gone.